Why Can't I Stop Fighting in Front of My Kids?

I've been embrolied in a hateful war of words with the commenters to a blog I recently wrote for the Washington Post.

Would love to get your input...

Why Can't I Stop Fighting in Front of My Kids?
By Melissa Chapman

"Why do you just step out of your clothes and leave them on the floor, do you think I'm the maid?" "If you put your used coffee cup in the sink, why can't you just fill it with water and let it soak?" "You need to put that sweatshirt in the hamper; you've been wearing it for a solid week!" Yes, these are my statements -- no, not to my kids -- rather they're ones I aim directly at my husband of 10 years. With each one my tone gets a bit nastier, eventually escalating into a guttural scream. Unfortunately 99 percent of the time that these barbs are hurled, my daughter and son are present.

I grew up in a home where the sound of screaming, arguing and a few plates being thrown, smashing into millions of smithereens, was almost as commonplace as breathing. I hated it. I remember my sisters and me hoping and praying our parents would stop, and even begging them to get a divorce. In my little-girl mind I couldn't conceive of what would make two people fight so fiercely, fights that would result in slammed doors, silent treatments, air thick with palpable tension and one parent sleeping in the basement. Then I got married and I finally understood.

The endearing habits and idiosyncrasies that drew me to my beloved spouse are now the habits THAT IRK ME MOST. I knew going into this marriage that our fundamental differences would eventually bubble to the surface. But being swept up in the fairy tale of picking out which flavor of butter cream would top our wedding cake and the color of my bridesmaid dresses, the euphoria of being in love carried me through the first years of marriage. Once the newness eventually wore off, my patience -- coupled with the daily stresses of raising two kids -- wore thin and my spouse's habits no longer seemed endearing. And as our lives have become more complicated and overwhelmed, our fights have followed suit. Yet there have been so many instances when, in the middle of a screaming match with my husband, I can almost feel my soul vacate my body, hovering over the two of us arguing. I will myself to just stop, knowing that our little kids are listening, soaking it up, and that in doing so we're planting the seeds of this vicious cycle to continue.

I admit it; I am far from the perfect parent. Do I want to scream at my husband in front of my kids? The answer is unequivocally no. Do I find myself at times, seething and actively attempting to hold back the accusations? Yes. But there are also so many instances when my husband will do something to incite my wrath of fury. As selfish and narcissistic as it may sound, I (unlike the prodigal mothers I know) cannot sublimate my own feelings so as not to affect my kids' developing psyche. As these instances of us arguing have escalated, my precocious 8 year old now asks the same questions I remember asking my parents as an 8 year old.

They start innocently enough? "Mommy, Daddy, are you going to get a divorce?" "Why are you fighting so much?" "Do you love me?" And truly I am just waiting for the other shoe to drop -- and hear my daughter ask us, as I did with my parents -- to just end our marriage. My 4 year old has begun to chime in with heart-wrenching statements like "When you fight you make my ears hurt."

Of course I immediately diffuse my daughter's anxiety and tell her, "I know it's difficult to see mommy and daddy fighting but sometimes grownups lose their tempers and, just like you fight with your friends, sometimes adults fight, too."

Don't get me wrong, I love my husband and cherish our shared history -- but day-in-day-out marriage with the same person is difficult -- the constant need to compromise, sublimate and sacrifice one's feelings, beliefs and sometimes one's identity. I don't think I'm alone in my feelings, perhaps I'm more honest than most.

Still, I am an adult and should be able to control my anger especially when my kids are flat out telling me that my actions are detrimental to them.

Melissa Chapman writes a weekly column called Kids in the City for the Staten Island Advance and the blog, "This real mom wouldn't be caught dead wearing mom jeans." She also contributes to Time out NY Kids and iVillage.